Prologue

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The sound of wedding bells echoed faintly in Aarohi Goenka's ears, but the joyous chime felt like a cruel reminder of a life she had imagined, now shattered into fragments too small to piece back together. Just yesterday, she had been the bride-to-be, preparing to marry the man she thought she loved. The man who had chosen someone else.

Standing alone in the grand Goenka mansion, Aarohi felt the weight of her world shifting beneath her feet. The house, usually so full of life, felt suffocating. The walls, once adorned with memories of family and laughter, now seemed to close in on her, as if mocking the emptiness she felt inside.

It was never supposed to be like this.From childhood, Aarohi had been the driven one, the achiever. She had done everything right—studied hard, earned the respect of her family, and became a skilled doctor. She had everything planned, her future unfolding like a carefully drawn map. And then, in a single moment, that map had burned.

Akshara.

Her half-sister, with her gentle heart and musical soul, had always been the one to play in the background, content to let Aarohi shine. But in love, Akshara had stepped into the spotlight. And in doing so, she had taken the one thing Aarohi thought was hers: Abhimanyu Birla.The betrayal cut deep, not just because Abhimanyu had chosen Akshara, but because Akshara had hidden her love from her. Aarohi had been blindsided. It felt like everything had slipped through her fingers, leaving her hollow, unsure of who she was without the goals she had set for herself.

Now, as she looked at the photos hanging on the walls—pictures of her family, her parents, and the one she never knew, Naira—Aarohi felt like a stranger in her own life. Everyone had expectations of her, but no one truly saw her pain. She was just "Aarohi the doctor," "Aarohi the responsible one." No one saw the broken woman underneath.

But this wasn't how her story would end.The decision had come to her in a moment of clarity, a calm amidst the storm. She would leave. She needed to get away from Udaipur, from the memories, from the constant reminder of what she had lost. Mumbai was waiting—an escape, a fresh start. She had a career to focus on, a life to rebuild. And this time, it would be on her terms.

As she packed her bags, Aarohi glanced once more at the photo of her mother, Sirat, who had been a fighter until her last breath. Aarohi would do the same. She would fight for her own happiness, even if it meant walking away from everything she had ever known.

The bells of the past were fading now, replaced by the distant hum of the future. And as Aarohi closed the door behind her, she knew that this was more than just the end of one chapter—it was the beginning of a new story.

A story where she would no longer be defined by what she lost, but by the woman she was yet to become.

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